Synchronicity
by StupidlyAwesome
Summary: At the bottom of the Earth, the Divo sings to satisfy the dragon, bringing blessings of love and happiness to the world until they die, thus repeating history. After 19 years of separation, Lovino Vargas leaves home and sets out to defy history and rescue his younger brother, the current Divo, Feliciano. Inspired by Vocaloid's Synchronicity. Rated T for language and violence.


_**A/N: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya**_

 _ **English lyrics by JoyDreamer and aFlowerSmiles**_

* * *

 **Prologue**

Gilbert stared up at the cavern ceiling. He held his iron cross necklace close, immediately thinking of his younger brother. It had been nearly fifteen years since he had seen him last, but he could still remember him. No matter how much the other elements of his old life faded, young Ludwig's eyes were still clear in his mind. The young Divo had always dreamed of the day when the dragon would fall and he'd finally be free to return to those eyes, to return home.

Closing his eyes, Gilbert let out a deep sigh. Still clutching his necklace, he began to walk forward. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at his oppressor, his enemy. The dragon, enormous and imposing, stared at him with her piercing yellow eyes. Despite this, she wasn't fully awake yet. Gilbert sensed it wouldn't take long, however, for her to grow angry, attempt to kill him, and escape.

Behind the dragon, high above on a cliff, the Divo saw the closest thing he currently had to a caretaker. He sat on the edge of the cliff, watching. He didn't move, didn't even speak. He only continued to watch from behind his mask. Despite being literally called 'the Guardian', he didn't seem to think much of Gilbert's current condition.

Being without proper sunlight for over a decade had left Gilbert paler than when he had come. Though he had three meals a day, he was still way too skinny. He was always cold and it didn't help that he had recently caught some sort of illness, making him even colder and weaker. No, the Guardian didn't care. Hell, he hadn't even flinched when Gilbert first coughed up blood a few days ago. He had only said one thing...

"Sing."

Some guardian he was...

The dragon, beginning to stir, broke through Gilbert's thoughts and the young man quickly began to sing. He had known this song for as long as he could remember. Before he had been brought here, there were days when Ludwig would simply cry and cry with no signs of stopping. Whenever that happened, Gilbert would sing this song for him and it would somehow make him feel better. It was something about his voice that would always make those around him feel at peace. Even his grandfather, plagued by memories of war, would become content.

 _On the edge of the artificial paradise_

 _Really deep, oh so deep_

 _At the bottom of the Earth_

 _I am fated to sing here as I close my eyes_

 _All alone 'til I reach my rebirth_

In time, Gilbert learned that it was called 'The Song of the Divos.' It had been passed down from Divo to Divo and, aside from his lively soul, it was the surefire way the Guardian recognized the Divo once he had reincarnated. Gilbert still remembered the moment that a pair of priests had made him sing this song before whisking him away from his life, his family, his village, and everything he had known prior.

The young Divo began to dance. Even though he had never gone out of his way to dance before being brought to the dragon, Gilbert had known every step, every spin and every pause he had to make. He remembered being surprised. The Guardian hadn't been. Then again, the Guardian never seemed to show any sort of emotion.

On good days, the dragon would fall sleep and wouldn't wake for a few days. During this, the Guardian would feed him and tell stories of the previous Divas and Divos. He would tell Gilbert their names, their stories, how each life seemed to mirror the last in one way or another. Sometimes, he would even tell of their demise.

"And what of the one before me?" Gilbert had asked. "What happened to them?"

"Her name was Mai. She was very pretty and I'm sure she had a lovely voice, but she never came to the dragon. She killed herself when the church came for her."

At the time, Gilbert had felt a sickening feeling in his stomach and didn't feel like talking much afterward. At first, he thought it was because he was afraid. Now, he knew that it was because he wished he had done the same.

 _From the past that is trapped with now nowhere to go_

 _I will braid all the voices that follow me around_

 _At the edge of repeating times from long ago_

 _I surrender myself fate abound_

"The one before Mai was called Tino," the Guardian had explained on a different day. "His friends were a rather ambitious bunch. They came to retrieve him, but all, save for one, of them perished. When Tino learned of their deaths, he refused to sing and the dragon took him."

"Did you kill them?"

The Guardian had grown silent for a moment before he answered. "I did what I had to."

 _Not knowing anything_

 _I will continue to sing_

 _I've been singing for eternity_

 _Singing about the sun_

 _Singing about the rain_

 _And the oh so gentle requiem_

The Guardian didn't have much to say today. Today was a bad day. It was on days like these that Gilbert was reminded of the truth. The Guardian was nothing more than the church's puppet, dull and void of any empathy, prepared to slaughter anyone that dared to come to the Divo's aid. He was his captor and Gilbert was his prisoner.

 _With all of the gentle voices I braid_

 _The sleeping, forgotten past_

 _I am changing my pain to a smile through the strain_

 _And I am drowning down to the end_

 _In all of my-_

Suddenly, the Divo stopped. The song was abruptly cut short. There was something wrong. He was shaking too much. His stomach felt too empty. A bead of sweat ran down his face. Something charged up his throat. The Divo's hand went to his mouth. It was too late. He coughed. Blood spewed from in between his fingers. His head shot up.

The dragon. The song was ruined. She wasn't asleep. She was awake. She was angry. She roared and swiped at the Divo, tearing her claws through his flesh. He was thrown to the opposite side of the cavern and landed with a hollow _THUD_ , lifeless. A steady stream of blood poured from his chest.

The Guardian looked to the beast, who roared furiously. She turned on him, still not satisfied. He simply sighed. In the dragon's tongue, he muttered, "Now, look what you've done. Another Divo gone to waste."

As the dragon exhausted all of her anger toward him, the Guardian simply left the cavern. It would not hold her forever, now that she was awake. Time was of the essence. The Divo's soul was gone and its next host had to be found quickly.

The Guardian allowed himself to sigh and tightened his grip on his staff. "History repeats itself," he muttered.


End file.
